


diphylleia grayi

by falchion



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:10:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5009455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falchion/pseuds/falchion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the first time, it’s an accident. the second and third, however, are not.</p><p>kindaichi has a voyeurism problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	diphylleia grayi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [puppykihyun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppykihyun/gifts).



> i dunno, i feel like kindaichi has a deep fixation on his captains.
> 
> edit: dont tell me you dont like the lapslock, i dont care lol.

the first time kindaichi sees his captain and vice captain fucking is an accident.

it’s half past six and practice finished at five, but kindaichi is back in aoba johsai’s third gym for his cell phone that he thinks he’s left in his gym room locker. the school is mostly empty; there’s a heavy rain warning for the night, so even the clubs that run late into the night have already broken off for home.

when he steps into the high-roofed hall, there’s not a soul in sight. kindaichi walks his way down the floor, school shoes clacking against the hardwood floor until he reaches the entrance to the changing room. then, he opens the door, immediately turning to the left to where his locker is. it takes him two tries to get his locker combination correct, but when the door swings open, to his relief, his phone is there.

he reaches in to grab it, but then stops.

on the bench beside him is a black sports bag, and kindaichi narrows his eyes. it’s iwaizumi’s.

was he still here?

there’s the sound of running water coming from the other side of the room, now that he thinks about it. perhaps he and oikawa had stayed back longer to practice their quick sets. they had such an inhumane connection that it seemed only natural for them to practice well into the night.

“iwa-chan,” a voice sighs, and kindaichi feels his entire body come to a stop. it’s the unmistakable voice of his captain, those syllables familiar from the thousands of times he’s said it at practice.

but the way he says it now is different. it’s more quiet, yet loud, the syllables drawn out, almost as if

kindaichi takes a step back.

they’ve left the door open to the shower stall open, and kindaichi can see their bodies reflected in the mirror above the sink. he watches the way the water courses down iwaizumi’s back, which is blaring red with scratch marks as oikawa claws his nails deep into his flesh.

“iwa-chan,” oikawa says again, “iwa-chan.”

“fuck, oikawa,” iwaizumi growls.

kindaichi knows it’s iwaizumi, because only his voice can get that gravelly sound and still sound amazing. he shivers at the sight of them wrapped close, and suddenly he’s hyper aware of everything around him.

of the flex in iwaizumi’s forearms as he carries oikawa’s weight. of the bend of oikawa’s knees around iwaizumi’s waist, and how he still wears his knee brace even as he’s getting fucked. of the heavy breathing of the two of them, and how it’s not dissimilar to how they sound after running laps around the school.

it sounds almost familiar.

it’s too much for kindaichi, as his mouth turns dry and he licks his lips. his skin feels hot, the clothing on his back suddenly too constricting for him. there’s a heat in his stomach, and a dizziness in his head that’s threatening to spill.

he turns, hand gripped tight and sweaty around his cell phone as he makes heel out of the room. the squeaking, which was in reality barely audible, sounds like one hundred decibels.

and then he’s running, his legs moving so fast that he can’t even feel himself breathe.

he finds it hard to sleep that night, the memory of the strong muscles of iwaizumi’s back and the soft parting of oikawas lips printed in his mind for what seems like eternity.

 

* * *

 

kindaichi finds it hard to look his captains in the face after that incident.

it wasn’t to say he was scarred by the incident, so to speak. rather, he couldn’t look into oikawa’s face without being reminded of the way his eyes screwed up tight as he was fucked. how that mouth had been wide and moaning, lips wet and chest heaving and

he turns his head away, feeling the captain’s gaze on him. he stares at the ground, at his shoes, at kunimi’s shoes. anything is better than the face of the setter, whos face has been hypersexualized in kindaichi’s head with the memories and sounds of sex, vibrant in his mind every night like he was seeing it for the first time, every time. it’s filthy, and he knows it.

but for some reason, kindaichi can’t stop thinking about it.

it’s a saturday afternoon, and the volleyball team is being kicked out of the gym in favour of a practice basketball match from out of town. they’ve mostly packed up, the underclassmen in charge of the nets while oikawa and iwaizumi alone had taken to rounding up all the balls. with no need to sweep the floors, they’re all done surprisingly fast, and most people have already dispersed for the day.

kindaichi, however, has noticed that the captain and his vice are nowhere to be seen.

his mouth feels dry, and his skin on fire.

are they… could they be doing that?

curiosity pricks at him from the inside, but he bites his lip. it’s fucked up of him to watch - to be curious. he shouldn’t have gone back that day, should have gone straight home like good boys do.

but kindaichi is young, and the thrumming of his heart is too much to resist as he makes his way up the staircase, each step feeling like a mile as his hands, clammy with sweat, lay balled up against his sides. he crouches low behind the seating stands, and bends himself forward so that he can see through the skylight.

the lights are on inside, and kindaichi can clearly see the figures of his upperclassmen resting against the wall.

he can’t hear them from here, not like last time. but in just a few seconds, kindaichi realises that he doesn’t need to.

oikawa drops to his knees, and kindaichi stops breathing. the setter pulls his shorts down to his ankles, caressing the man’s legs and damn it, kindaichi’s swallowing around nothing, his throat scratchy and dry.

he can almost hear the obscene noises that are surely coming from oikawa’s mouth as he swallows around the spiker’s cock.

it’s echoing in his ears again, the sounds from last time. the breathy pants that escaped iwaizumi’s lips, so unlike the composed vice captain he showed to everyone else. his fingers are grasped tight in oikawa’s hair, the brown locks messy as iwaizumi pulls him, closer and closer around his dick, his head thrown backwards.

kindaichi hand sneaks to the front of his pants, his mind barely conscious as his fingers curl, soft and delicate against his groin. he’s painfully aroused just by the sight, and he licks his lips as his touches grow more sure.

he can hear oikawa choking. kindaichi can hear the obscene slapping noises of skin against skin, the fervent sound of lust and need curled up into a frantic and messy symphony. he hears them like a crashing wave, the soft coughing noises he setter was making as iwaizumi fucks his throat like he was there for no other reason. there’s nothing else but them.

kindaichi hadn’t even noticed his hand down his pants until he’s too late. when he’s breathing heavy and hard against his left arm trying to muffle the noises he makes as he comes in his pants. he sucks in a huge gasp of air, like he’d been suffocating, as he collapses against the hardwood of the seating stand behind him. his forehead is matted with sweat and shame, his hand slick with his own come and desperation.

he suddenly feels sick.

his eyes trail back to the storage shed below, where iwaizumi is sliding his shorts back over his hips. oikawa is no longer on his knees, but is instead smoothing his fingers back through his hair as if a makeshift comb will save him from looking like his mouth had just been fucked.

(it doesn’t.)

iwaizumi says something, before sauntering out the room. oikawa simply waves his hand in response, following the vice captain out the doorway.

then oikawa pauses and turns around, facing the empty room once more.

kindaichi’s heart hammers in his chest.

had it been his imagination, or did oikawa smile right at him?

 

* * *

 

it’s the final day of classes just before summer vacation, and it was by no surprise to kindaichi that the school campus had turned desolate in a mere half an hour.

kindaichi, who had been asked to stay back to talk to a teacher in regards to an abysmal test score, now walked down the empty corridors towards his locker lamenting at his awful luck as of late. it’s as he’s putting on his shoes and swinging his bag over his shoulder that his phone vibrates in his pocket, and he stops halfway to flip it open. 

> from: oikawa tooru  
> 3-5

he frowns, wondering whether this is some sort of mistake. a bunch of numbers are meaningless to him. pocketing his phone, he slips on his second shoe and heads out the door.

his phone vibrates again.

his eyebrows knit together, but this time his fingers stop on his keyboard.

> from: oikawa tooru  
> hurry

kindaichi has never been to the third floor of the building before - he’d never had the occasion. but now, he is running, not with occasion but running with need. he doesn’t think his legs have ever run faster, not even chasing a chance ball and certainly not in training laps around the gym.

he gets up that last flight of stairs, his calves burning from exertion. his eyes fly to the name placard above the door; 3-1. he levels out his breathing, before slowly making his way down the hall, a sick feeling of both dread and excitement running through his veins.

he hears it before he sees it, the voices talking. they belong to none other than his captain and his trusty vice. kindaichi leans his back to the wall, so that he isn’t visible from the inside, and slowly peers in.

the sight is nothing short of breathtaking. from this angle, he can see it all. oikawa’s torso spread over the desk, his arms clinging to the sides like a lifeline. his body is bent at a sharp angle, body bare as iwaizumi slams into him from behind.

oikawa can’t keep his mouth closed as he keens for more, his eyes clamped shut through every thrust.

kindaichi had never become so instantaneously hard in his life.

then, as if he has some kind of sixth sense for it, oikawa’s eyes open and slide right towards kindaichi’s gaze. iwaizumi is too preoccupied to notice the teen, but oikawa gives him a wicked smile.

he opens his mouth, as if he was about to say something, only to let out a moan not unlike those kindaichi hears in porn. of fucking course oikawa would sound like a pornstar as he was getting fucked just _inches_ out of his life.

“iwa-chan,” oikawa moans, “oh, iwa-chan.”

it’s the spiker’s name he’s saying, but it’s kindaichi’s face he’s seeing.

kindaichi’s fingers grow tighter at his side.

“h-harder, i want it harder.” his voice is already stuttering at the pace they’re at now, but iwaizumi lets out a grin.

“you want what harder?” iwaizumi asks, his fingers grasping tighter at oikawa’s hips. his movements have come to a stop as he presses himself closer to oikawa, listening to what he has to say.

the setter groans, sliding himself back. he stares deep into kindaichi’s eyes as the words fall out.

“your cock, iwa-chan. i want your cock, hard and hot. i want you to fill me up deeper, until i can’t even scream anymore. your cock that loves me so much, iwa-chan.”

the filthy stream leaves his mouth so effortly that kindaichi can hardly process it, but oikawa only continues.

“i dont want to be able to move.” his lips curl into a smile. “fuck me, _hajime_.”

iwaizumi lets out a bitter laugh, before lowering his head onto oikawa’s back. “you goddamn slut,” he murmurs, before he picks up the pace, as hard as oikawa had wanted until the setter’s voice is nothing but a trill of sloppy, desperate moans he cannot even articulate.

“yes, hajime,” oikawa breathes. his eyes are closed now, but he knows kindaichi is watching. the younger boy cannot possibly let his eyes off him. “fuck, hajime, i’m -”

oikawa can’t even get the words out before he’s coming, his back arching beautifully unlike anything kindaichi has seen in his life. the sounds he makes as he experiences catharsis are enough to make kindaichi’s skin light on fire.

“tooru,” iwaizumi grunts. his hands are clutching oikawa tight, searching further down until their hands clasp together. “tooru,” he says again, and then he lets out a groan so gutteral and perfect that kindaichi isn’t sure he can ever be content without it again.

the two fall silent, holding each other, and kindaichi feels reality creep back to him like a punch to the gut. what had been adrenaline pumping and exhilarating just seconds ago was now falling onto him like a bucket of water.

it’s electric and intoxicating seeing them like this, and kindaichi knows, just _knows_ now, that there is no going back.

he turns, hiding back behind the wall as he evens his breathing. he clamps his legs together, ignoring the erection pressing tight against him. he bites his lip. he feels disgusted.

his phone vibrates in his pocket, and he swallows the dread in his throat as he flips it open.

> from: oikawa tooru  
> don’t worry, your captain will keep your secret for you.

****  
  


**Author's Note:**

> diphylleia grayi, also known as the skeleton flower, is a specie of flower that turns transparent when it rains. 
> 
> imagine not being able to hide anything, being completely see through to everyone around you.


End file.
